


Reconciliation

by Marksider89



Series: A Strange Sense of Normalcy [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Other, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-08 08:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21232748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marksider89/pseuds/Marksider89
Summary: Two soldiers walk into a bar...





	Reconciliation

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, this story takes place between the last two chapters on Period of Adjustment.

Gabriel studied the door in front of him warily. It was the entrance to some no-name bar on the outskirts of a no-name town in the middle of Nowhere, USA. As he debated entering, Sombra’s words echoed in his mind;

_"Life has many doors, 'Reap-boy'. The question is; have you got the cojones to go through the right one?"_  
_"And how exactly am I supposed to know which one is the right one?"_  
_"That's easy. It's the one you're most afraid to go through."  
_

The text message from Sombra had been cryptic. Nothing more than the instructions to meet someone at an address he didn’t recognize, on a specific date and at a certain time, and the instructions to ‘try to appear as normal as possible’. Not completely sure what she meant by that, he’d opted for a simple black hoodie and sweatpants.

He opened the door to the bar and entered, and immediately winced as his ears were assaulted by the sounds of the obnoxiously mournful country song coming from the jukebox by the door. He glanced around the bar. It was a pretty typical country dive bar. Just about everyone was wearing either flannel, denim overalls, or a ten gallon hat, and the place looked like it hadn’t been properly cleaned in years. The air smelled of cigars and cheap booze, and felt...sticky, somehow. It felt like the kind of place Jesse would happily frequent. He forced himself to not smile at the thought.

Several people glanced up as he entered. Most quickly went back to their drinks or conversations, but a few continued to eye him warily.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Gabriel looked to the speaker, the bartender. He was such a weedy looking fellow. If he hadn’t been behind the bar, Gabe would have assumed he was an accountant or minister of some sort. The man’s face seemed to sag more from fatigue than from age, but his eyes and smile were kind.

“I’m gonna have to ask that you remove your hood while you're here.” he said as politely as possible.

Gabe hesitated. Although Moira had recently assured him that his condition was “stable”, and it was certainly better than the times where chunks of his flesh would randomly fall off and crumble to dust, revealing the muscles and bones beneath, before slowly regenerating, he still didn’t feel comfortable letting anyone see his face unencumbered. He carefully reached up and pulled the hood down, revealing his scarred visage for the whole bar to see. The barman didn’t even blink.

“Thanks. Now then, what can I get for you?”

Gabriel approached the bar and thought for a moment. “Shot of tequila, and a glass of bourbon, no ice.” he said curtly. He blinked and the bartender was already placing his drinks in front of him. How had he done that so quickly?

He pulled out his wallet to pay, but the bartender waved it off. “Your tab’s being covered.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “By who?”

“Him.” The bartender said plainly, pointing to a booth in the far corner of the bar. Gabriel looked to where he was pointing, and froze. There in the corner, staring down into his beer, was Jack Morrison. No mask. No ‘76’ jacket. Not Strike Commander Morrison. Just...Jack.

Gabe turned back to the bar and glared down at his drinks, trying to quell the rising panic and anger. How had he not seen Jack when he first glanced around the bar? He grabbed the shot of tequila and downed it urgently, and quickly bit into and sucked the lime wedge the barkeep had provided. Placing the shot glass and the remnants of the lime back on the bar, he took a deep breath. Was he really ready to do this?

Only one way to find out.

He grabbed the glass of bourbon. “I may be back for more.” he half-warned. The bartender simply nodded as Gabe turned and made his way over to Jack. He forced himself to ignore the suspicious and fearful looks from the bar patrons that he passed, until he stood before Jack.

He paused to study his former commander. Even though they had been encountering and fighting each other for the past five years, this was the first time he was able to really _ look _ at Jack. Though his hair had been grey for over a decade now, and his skin had started to sag slightly, Gabe knew he was neither weak nor frail. In fact, based on their last fight, Jack was just a strong and spry as he had been when they had met over thirty years ago. But now, for the first time, Jack actually looked old.

He slid into the booth across from Jack, who didn’t move. “Jack.” he said, to get his attention. Finally, Jack lifted his gaze up to him.

“Gabe.” he returned. He could see the guarded look in Gabriel’s eyes. It was as though he expected Jack to suddenly pull out his pulse rifle and start firing at him. He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Relax. I’m not here to fight.” he said taking a sip of his beer.

“Then why are we here?”

Jack paused for a second, his eyes were back to staring at his drink. He let out a sigh. “I’m tired, Gabe.”

Gabe couldn’t resist. “Past your bedtime, old man?” he asked with a smirk.

Jack scoffed. “You’re two months older than me. Or have _ you _ gotten so old that you’ve forgotten that?”

“Maybe, but you’re older in spirit.” Gabe retorted.

The two men glared at each other for a moment, until Jack noticed the slight grin on Gabe’s face, and he found himself grinning back, before breaking out into a laugh, which Gabe quickly found himself joining. It was short lived, however, and their smiles faded. How long had it been since they had last done this? they both thought. How long had it been since he’d been able to share a drink and a laugh with their friends? It felt...good. Though neither of them would admit it, they both missed it.

“What I meant was; I’m tired of fighting.” Jack said. “I..._ We _ have been fighting our whole lives, Gabe. You fought out in L.A. to prove you were more than just another thug, while I was fighting out in Indiana to prove I was more than some backwoods hick. Then we joined the military, and wound up fighting the omnics in the crisis. Then, we fought terrorists while in Overwatch. And then, eventually, we were fighting each other…and I’m just sick of it.

“It’s like fighting is all we know. It’s almost as if we’re uncomfortable if we’re _ not _ fighting someone or something. Think about it. When’s the last time we did something for ourselves? When’s the last time we weren’t ‘Commander Morrison’ and ‘Commander Reyes’? When’s the last time we went to some exotic location to see the sights and be tourists, and not just part of some damn mission? When was the last time we did something just for fun? When was the last time we really _ lived _!?” By the time he’d finished, his voice had gotten louder than he’d intended, causing a few people to look at him funny.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them.

“Okay…” Gabe said after a moment, “so why did you call me here?”

“Two reasons. First, I wanted to tell you in person that I’m done. I’m done fighting. I’ve done my part, and I think it’s time to let the younger generation handle things. If you still want to kill me, that’s fine, just...give me a little time to live a bit.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Jack thought for a minute. “I’m honestly not sure. Ana says Hawaii is nice, so maybe I’ll go there. Always wanted to see Machu Picchu, and I never really got to see much of Japan. Or maybe,” he chuckled, “ maybe I’ll just end up back in Indiana and wind up being a damn farmer.

“And… I know you never like listening to me, but I’m going to say this anyway. My advice: you should do the same, or at least try to.”

Gabriel’s expression soured. “Not exactly easy considering my… condition.”

“There’s nothing that can be done?”

“Moira has been trying, but she says progress is slow.”

“What makes you so sure she even _ wants _ to fix you?” Jack challenged.

Gabriel had to pause at that. Did Moira actually want to fix him? So long as Moira _ didn’t _ fix him, he was practically immortal, and an invaluable asset to Talon. If Moira was lying about her progress, he could just threaten her, but even he knew she would just respond with, ‘If you kill me, you’ll be stuck like that forever.’. He groaned. The only other option was Angela, and he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to face her, or if she’d even be willing to help him after everything he’d done.

“Anyways,” Jack continued, “the other reason I wanted you here was to give you this...” He picked up something from beside him on the bench. When he placed it on the table, Gabe could see it was an opaque tupperware dish, with two envelopes on top of it, one white and the other blue. “Those are for you.”

He downed the last of his beer and stood up. “Well, I’m gonna head out. I guess...I’ll see you when I see you.” He turned to leave, but stopped and turned back. “Oh, and, uh…” he thought for a second, “open the _ blue _ envelope first.”

And with that, he went over to the bar and paid his and Gabe’s tabs before heading out the door and disappearing into the night. The whole time, Gabe watched him silently out of the corner of his eye. Only when he was gone did he fully turn his attention to the things Jack had placed before him. Cautiously, he reached over, picked up the blue envelope, and opened it. Inside was a card.

‘You’re invited!’ was embossed on one side. Confused, he turned the card over. ‘You are warmly invited to attend the wedding of Fareeha Amari & Angela Ziegler.’ was printed in a fancy, calligraphy-styled font, along with the date, location, and R.S.V.P. details. Gabriel leaned back, staring at the invitation in confusion. Why the hell would they invite him? After everything he’d done? The people he’d killed? The bridges he’d burned?

He grabbed his bourbon and took another large drink of it before turning his attention to the other envelope. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find inside, but a handwritten note was not one of them. He didn’t even need to look at the signature at the bottom, as he recognized Angela’s handwriting instantly.

_ “Gabriel, _

_ If you are reading this, I can only assume that you have received the invitation to my wedding to Fareeha, and I know that I’m not exactly your favorite person, but I must humbly implore that you attend, not for my sake, but for Fareeha’s. _

_ I’m sure you can remember how she was when she would visit the base with Ana, always following you, Jack, or Reinhardt around, begging for stories, or for you to play ‘Secret Agent’ with her, and I _ _ know _ _ that I don’t need to remind you of ‘The Tea Party Incident’. Reinhardt still has the scars, and Jack just gets that thousand-yard stare if you mention it. _

_ But I digress. You, Jack, and Rein were idols to Fareeha, not to mention secondary father figures after Ana and Sam separated. She still calls you ‘Uncle Gabe’ to this day. I just know it would mean the world to her for you to be there. So please, put aside the hatred and revenge, just for one day, for her. _

_ Best wishes,  
Angela” _

Gabriel set down the letter and, with a heavy sigh, rested his chin in his palm. He reached again for his bourbon, and that’s when his attention was drawn to the tupperware dish. He had forgotten it was there. He grabbed it and placed it in front of himself and popped the lid off. He inhaled sharply at the sight of the small brown squares inside. He gingerly lifted one and took a bite. He closed his eyes and leaned back, unconsciously letting out a pleasured groan at the decadent taste of his favorite sweet treat: maple walnut fudge.

* * *

Angela rubbed her eyes, trying to force away the encroaching exhaustion. Shortly after she and Fareeha had moved to Greece, she had accepted a rather cushy position at the nearby hospital. She predominantly did research, but she also helped out with surgeries, especially the more difficult or risky ones. While she loved her work, when Fareeha was away, she had a tendency to bury herself in her work to the point where she would go ten, twelve, or even fourteen hours without pause.

Fareeha was with Zarya, Lena, and Lúcio, assisting Hana’s M.E.K.A. squad in defending Busan from an omnic assault. Although Lúcio didn’t have Angela’s medical expertise, she still trusted him to keep them all safe.

A yawn broke her from her thoughts. She glanced at the clock. She had been at it for just over nine hours without a break. She looked back at her computer. While she normally understood the long lines of code before her, right now, they felt like meaningless letters and numbers.

She was often surprised where inspiration could come from. It had actually been and offhanded question from Lena that had brought her current project about. Several years ago, Angela had developed a way of delivering nanites to one's system via a capsule-style pill. The intention was for soldiers to take the pills before engaging in combat, and it would allow for the healing of smaller injuries on the field in case a medic was out of reach. Recently, Lena had mentioned that she didn’t like swallowing pills (though she was capable of doing so), and had asked if it were possible for Angela’s nanite-infused pills to be ingested through something like a breath strip, and so, here she was, going through nanite blueprints, emails from a couple of breath strip manufacturers, and thousands of lines of code to see if it was possible.

_ ‘Verdammt, Angela, take a break before you pass out.’ _ her mind chastised her. She let out a sigh and stood up. Collecting herself, she resolved to grab a bite to eat in the cafeteria before heading home and getting some sleep. Shutting down her computer and slipping on her coat, she made her way to the door and opened it, only to freeze upon the sight of who was on the other side.

Reaper.

He glowered over her. Wispy dark smoke seeped from behind his mask. She couldn’t help but notice that his breathing seemed a bit labored and raspy. His condition must be getting worse.

“Gabriel?” she asked cautiously.

He didn’t respond for a moment. His fists clenched. “I… I need your help.” he said. He sounded like he was angry with himself for having to ask for help.

“I… I’m sorry?”

Reaper slammed his fist into the wall next to her. To her credit, Angela managed to not flinch.

“I said, I need you to fix me.” he said, his voice was measured as though he was trying not to shout.

Angela studied him for a few seconds, before letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Come in.”

Back inside her office, she sat back down at her desk. Reaper sat awkwardly in the chair across from her.

“I take it you got my letter.” she half-asked.

“Yeah.”

Angela leaned forward and folded her hands on the desk. “I’m going to be honest with you, Gabriel. I cannot promise that I can fix you, especially considering everything that has been done to you; the Soldier Enhancement Program, Moira’s tampering with your D.N.A., and of course… your death. But… I _ can _ promise that I will do everything I can to make sure you are presentable for the wedding.”

Reaper, who had been staring at the floor, uttered a quiet, “Thanks.”

A long, awkward silence passed between them. Just as Angela opened her mouth to speak again, Reaper beat her to the punch. “I can contact Sombra and see if she can dig up anything about the S.E.P. or Moira’s work.”

“From what I know of Moira, she probably kept little to no record of her ‘less than ethical’ projects. If Sombra is able to find anything, it would be very helpful. Thank you.” She leaned back slightly. “Now then, in the meantime, let’s see what we can do with what we have. Ja?”

* * *

“Hold on, your tie is crooked.”

“Mother, it’s fine, you’re just fussing.”

Ana froze for a second, her mouth open and ready to retort, but then she seemed to deflate slightly. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Fareeha smiled at her. “It’s alright. If anything, I think you’re more stressed about this than I am.”

“Oh, hush. It’s your wedding, for goodness’ sake. I just want to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

“It’s good to see you haven’t changed much, Ana.” came a new voice. Both women turned to the newcomer.

“Dad!” Fareeha ran over to him, enveloping him in a hug.

“Hello, sweetheart.” he laughed, returning the hug. Pulling away from her, he patted her shoulders. “Look at you. My little girl is all grown up, and now she’s getting married. I am so proud of you.”

“Thanks dad.” Fareeha beamed.

Running a hand through his greying hair, he turned his attention to Ana.

“Hello Ana.”

Ana’s mouth hung open as she struggled to speak. “Sam...I…”

He silenced her by cupping her face in his hands. “It’s so good to see you. You’re just as beautiful as ever.”

“Oh Sam…” Ana’s cheeks became brushed with pink briefly. “Wait, how are you not surprised that I’m not dead?”

“Fareeha told me everything.”

“He deserved to know.” Fareeha said. “And you kept putting it off whenever I brought it up.”

Ana looked at him sadly. "I’m sorry, Sam. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

He smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay.” he said pulling her into a hug. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“That’s probably Lena coming to let me know if they’re ready to start.” Fareeha said, heading to the door.

However, it was _ not _ Lena who greeted her on the other side of the door, but Gabriel, looking uncomfortable in his tuxedo. His face was heavily scarred, but overall, he looked like his old self.

“You came.” she said with a mix of relief and amazement.

He smiled back at her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, kid.” he said.

He stiffened slightly when she pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.” she said softly.

As Gabriel returned the hug, a thought struck him. When was the last time he had given Fareeha a hug? He struggled to remember. It would have been just before she had left for the army, just after she'd turned eighteen. That was over fifteen years ago now. He had trouble believing it. It seemed like it wasn't that long ago that she was just a bright-eyed girl with dreams of joining Overwatch, and yet, it also felt like a lifetime ago.

Before he could contemplate it further, the sound of someone clearing their throat made him and Fareeha separate. They turned to see Lena standing a few feet away.

"Sorry to interrupt, Luvs, but they're ready to start."

“Thanks, Lena. Let them know I’ll be there in a minute.” Fareeha said.

“I’ll go find a seat.” Gabe said. “And by the way, congratulations, Fareeha.”

Fareeha smiled at him. “Thanks again for coming uncle Gabe.” she said before heading back into her dressing room.

“Gotta admit, Gabe, I didn’t think you’d come.” Lena said.

Gabe simply shrugged at her. But then he noticed something. “Uh, Lena, your tie is…”

Lena looked down. The bow-tie of her tuxedo had come undone. “Oh, bollocks! That’s the third time today.” she grumbled as she started to fumble with it.

“Here, let me.” Gabe said stepping up to her, and in a matter of seconds, he had fixed it. “There. It should stay now. Just don’t mess with it too much.”

Lena gawped at him. “How…”

“Jack can’t tie a tie to save his life. Ana and I always had to do it for him.” Gabe told her with a laugh.

* * *

Gabirel sat in the back of the room, watching the afterparty silently as the others celebrated. The wedding itself had been short and sweet, taking place in a small, nondenominational church. Immediately after, everyone had moved to the cafeteria in the church’s basement.

After the dinner and cake had been served and eaten, Angela and Fareeha shared their first dance as a couple. When they had finished, Lúcio had commandeered the turntables, starting things out with some slow dance songs so all the couples that were present could share a romantic dance.

He saw Ana dancing with Sam, her eyes closed as she rested her head on his shoulder. Hana and Sombra were giggling as they awkwardly danced, as neither had any experience slow dancing. Lena, Emily, and Amélie took turns so they could each share a dance with both of their girlfriends. And Gabe really had to try hard to not laugh at the visual of Torbjörn dancing with Ingrid, and Reinhardt making jokes about it definitely wasn’t helping him contain his laughter.

Gabriel glanced around the room, observing everyone as they ate, conversed, and danced. They were happy. Contented. A strange thought struck him: is this what it’s like to be normal? He remembered what Jack had said about them wasting their lives fighting, and he was beginning to think that there might be something to that. This was _ why _ they had fought in the first place, so people could live normal lives. Lives where they could live, have families, and grow old happily. The worst part, though, was that Gabriel wasn’t sure he could live that kind of life after spending so much of his life fighting, hating, and killing.

Gabe couldn’t help but smile when Lúcio played a country song, which prompted Jesse to get up and insist on teaching everyone on the dancefloor how to line dance. Surprisingly, nearly everyone had agreed to try, with only a few bowing out. As he watched them shuffle back and forth, he noticed someone approach him.

“Hello Gabriel.”

“...Amélie.”

She took a seat next to him, placing her glass on the table.

“Have you tried the champagne? It’s rather good.”

“Eh, I’m not really a champagne guy.”

She shrugged and took a sip of hers.

“Regardless, there are a couple of things I wanted to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “First, I never got the chance to thank you for keeping me safe after my…departure from Talon. So, thank you.”

“I _ was _ blackmailed into it.”

“You and I both know that’s not the only reason.”

Gabe couldn’t meet her gaze. “I failed Gérard twice. I wasn’t going to fail him again.”

Amélie saddened. “And I am certain he is grateful.” she said solemnly. They shared a moment of silence, mentally paying their respects to Gérard.

“I also wanted to let you know,” Amélie said after a moment, “you will be receiving another wedding invitation sometime soon.”

“You mean, you-?”

“Not yet,” she said, cutting him off. “But I placed the order for the rings last week.”

His brow furrowed. “Wait, is that even legal?”

Amélie chuckled. “You haven’t been keeping up with the news, have you? England has become the first nation to legalize polygamous marrieages. Unfortunately, all parties must be English citizens, so I must wait until my application for dual citizenship is approved.”

“So you’re really serious about them?”

Amélie looked over at her girlfriends. A wistful and loving smile graced her lips. “Yes. I admit that there was a brief time where I was worried that I was merely latching on to them to fill the void left by Gérard, but now I know that I would truly do anything for them, and that they would do the same for me.” She paused for a moment. “That...and the fact that the sex is mind-blowing.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and groaned. “I did not need to know that.”

Amélie couldn’t help but laugh at his discomfort.

“Well... congrats in advance, I guess.” he said.

“Thank you.”

The song had ended, and many of the dancers were headed back to their tables.

“Well,” Amélie said, standing up, “I shall take my leave. Fare well, Gabriel. And...it is good to have you back to your old self.”

Gabe simply gave her a nod and a half-wave as she left.

* * *

  
  
Jack let out a contented sigh as he settled into the beach chair, embracing the heat of the tropical sun. Ana had been right. Hawaii was wonderful, and in his mind, moving there had been a good decision. He grabbed a beer out of the cooler next to him, cracked it open, and took a long drink. He slipped a pair of sunglasses over his eyes before laying back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head and allowing himself a contented smile.

“Mind if I join you?” came a familiar voice. Jack turned to see Gabriel standing a few feet away. He was dressed for the beach, with black swim trunks, a sleeveless shirt, and sandals. He carried his own beach chair under his arm.

Jack eyed him cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you…” he replied, plopping the chair down onto the sand, “retiring.”

Jack blinked at him. “Serious?”

“Yep.” Gabe said as he took a seat. “You were right. It’s time to leave the future to the younger generation. Let’s live a little. Throw me a beer?”

“No.” Jack deadpanned.

Gabe turned to question him, only to find a beer can in flight heading straight at him. He caught it mere inches from his face and scowled at Jack, who just smirked back at him.

“Smartass.” he grumbled, making Jack chuckle.

It wasn’t long before Gabe was laughing along with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to say I'm sorry for going so long without posting anything.
> 
> Firstly, this story went through two (nearly) full rewrites. The second draft was actually a crossover with a little-known sci-fi series of books, which I might still post someday. I actually referenced them in 'It's a Maid's Life for Me'. Can you figure it out? Also, I got completely obsessed with Assassin's Creed: Odyssey (and Kassandra is my waifu now), and then Borderlands 3 and MediEvil came out, so...yeah.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you liked it. As always, feel free to follow me on tumblr @marksider89


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